


Hard Days

by MarigoldWritesThings



Series: The New Guy and other short stories [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco helps, Established Relationship, Fluffy, Harry is down, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, auror!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13784061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldWritesThings/pseuds/MarigoldWritesThings
Summary: “What happened, love?” Draco asked, moving carefully towards the sofa, sinking down between Harry’s spread legs. He kept his eyes firm on the green ones, and when no rejection showed he delicately, slowly, lifted his hand to his husband’s hair. It was coarse, and there was dust, or soot, in it. It left dark marks on Draco’s pale fingers, marking him like charcoal.





	Hard Days

Harry came home that night having left his heart behind. Work took its toll on him more and more the older he got: somehow, now that he was an actual adult, seeing the “things out there” made him more petrified of what he had to do as a teenager.

It wasn’t that he was resentful - not really. It was that he couldn’t quite believe he made it out alive. And there were days, like today, when he wasn’t sure he had. Something would remind him: a fight in a forest, being without back-up, or a cold, high-pitched laugh. It hurt his scar, and he knew it was just in his head yet that made it no less scary. Memories flooded him as soon as the mission was over - as soon as he allowed himself to think.

He collapsed on the sofa, shoes still on, trucking mud through the living room. His wand hand shook as he summoned whiskey and a tumbler. Without even realising, he drunk straight from the bottle, bitterly relieved when the burn from it pushed everything else backwards - just a fraction.

The front door opened and Draco came in, slightly hunched to one side as he tried to gather heavy bags of groceries in one hand and tuck away his wand with the other. He spotted the mud, and his expression glinted dangerously with an oncoming tantrum, but one look at Harry’s dejected form wiped the emotion off.

He left the bags on the floor and Harry thought momentarily about all the produce which would melt out off the freezer, the compulsion whipped into him by the Dursley’s cruel words taking first place in his head.

“What happened, love?” Draco asked, moving carefully towards the sofa, sinking down between Harry’s spread legs. He kept his eyes firm on the green ones, and when no rejection showed he delicately, slowly, lifted his hand to his husband’s hair. It was coarse, and there was dust, or soot, in it. It left dark marks on Draco’s pale fingers, marking him like charcoal.

Harry only shook his head, taking another swig from the bottle. His face turned into a hard grimace, then quickly dissolved into barely kept at bay tears.

“Is today a ‘talk about it’ day or a ‘let’s stay silent’ day?”

“Silent.”

Relief relaxed the muscles Draco didn’t realise he was tensing. Harry’s voice, although rough around the edges and not much more than a whisper, was undisputedly stronger than when they first got together not long after the war. This was a low moment, but not a return to the dark year, as he took to calling it in his thoughts.

“Alright love. Give me a second,” Draco stood up, giving Harry’s hair an affectionate tug. He collected the groceries, deposited them in the kitchen and listened to Harry murmuring to himself while unpacking the bags - frozen peas, coffee, chocolate. Bread. Tea. The building blocks of their life.

On the way back, he gathered a blanket, the red one with a hole near the seam, the one which they would argue over if they were both under the weather. Summoning way too many snacks to follow him, he walked back to the living room and draped the blanket half over Harry, half over himself.

Harry’s head was tipped back onto the couch, eyes closed tight. The bottle of whiskey balanced precariously on his knee. Draco worked his fingers open, delicately, removing the bottle and replacing it with a chocolate bar. Harry prised open one eye. A small, sad smile played on his face as he ripped open the wrapper and stuffed the chocolate into his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr!  
> https://marigoldwritesthings.tumblr.com/


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